Chasing After Infinity (22 page)

ADRIAN

Returning to
Eiernhill
, I straighten my jacket and try to put on the charming smile for the girls that saunter past. Putting on a show is easier than I first thought. Putting everything that happened a few
night's
ago was easy.

I look in the mirror, seeing the same face, the same smile, the same eyes but if you looked closely enough, my eyes never quite matched with my smile.

I'm in the courtyard, smoking,
leaning
against the back door building with Josh
Scotter
. I take a long smoky drag and release it into the air, feeling as if my worries are floating away bit by bit. When I got home the day before yesterday, my dad threatened to take away my car to prevent me from going on "more rendezvous trips." I didn't mention my real father. I had enough of it, I was too sick to even demand more information about him. My anger just flared into wariness.

I didn't know my father.
If he would’ve taught me how to fish or helped me with schoolwork, like the others' dads.
I never got that chance.

"Man, you're just so out of it these days,"
Scotter
says. "Did you snort up a shit load of pot this morning or what?"

I laugh vaguely. "
Hungover
."

He nods as if he understands and then he gestures behind me. "Hey, that chick is staring at you."

I ignore it, smiling slightly sardonic. "Are they?"

Then I turn, swerving slightly and my smile slides away.

Avena
.

She's stopped and is just looking at me. From even across the quad, her eyes are as piercing as if she's staring right through me.

And as always, she had.

Stared through me and known what I was all along.

I take a sharp drag and stub the cigarette.

And then pretending I don't see her, I turn back to
Scotter
.

My mind is buzzing and there's nowhere for me to escape. In class, I can barely sit straight and focus and halfway through the biology lab, I roll it out of there along with Lauren, the girl who I brought to the dance as a date. I can't feel anything--I feel muted somehow. I drag her into the janitor's closet where when the light switch is turned off, there's scratching, and hands all over. Lauren's running her hands over my shirt, touching my hair, believing I'm her property.
Like I'm no one else's.

****

AVENA

I haven’t seen Adrian at school for days. Today, he reappears as if materializing from thin air. There’s something tense about him, maybe it’s in the edge of his shoulders or his twisting smile. When the teacher called on him to answer a question, he’d reply with something nonchalant and rude, causing him to be sent out of the class. After the period, I’d see him perched on the school ledge, chain-smoking and staring out at the sky. After surveying his surroundings, he spotted me looking and shook his head once. Then he walked off, tossing his cigarette on the ground where he once has been.

His bipolar mood swings are disorienting: one week he’s playful and the next he’s cold and somehow just…missing.

I walk stiffly to my class before I’m intercepted by Blake who blocks me to the doorway. My face is at his chest.

“Hey there, stranger,” he says warmly. “Got some time?”

I stare at him. “But Blake—I have class right now.”

He shrugs. “Come with me to the library. We can study there; you have math too, right? Plus, I’m a whiz at it.”

As we weave through the crowd, him tugging me by the hand, me curious yet wary. We arrive at the school library; enter the air-conditioned lit room with clusters of students studying in tables and shelves upon shelves of books. He grabs us an empty table by the window and we sit, unpacking our textbooks.

“So what’s your ulterior motive for leading me here?” I tease, flicking on my pen.

Blake smiles.
“Nah.
Just bored and I didn’t want to face my bio class after this huge disaster.”

“What happened?”

He sneaks a sly look at me. “You really want to know?”

“If it’s embarrassing, I’d eat it up.”

He sighs. “Well, I was doing my aqueous solution experiment the other day and I slipped some of the clear vial into the beaker as instructed. But just when I was about to hand it to my partner, the beaker fell down, splashing her shirt. Her shirt was soaked through and she was screaming because the liquid had scorched her chest.”

“That’s awful,” I say. “Are you always this careless?”

“Maybe.”
Blake points to my paper. “That stuff is easy.”

I gape at him, showing him the endless math questions. “Are you serious? I can’t figure the second one out.”

He sweeps his paper off the table and leans over to me, studying the question. After a moment, he says, “Okay, it’s just memorization. Logarithms are just about formulas. Once you’ve got that down, it’s all going to be flying colours.” He then proceeds to show me how to do the equations as I suck the eraser of my pencil contemplatively.

“Hmm, maybe you’re a whiz, after all,” I say, grinning. “If I have you as my tutor, I wouldn’t need Mrs.
Henridge
.”

As we start talking about not just math but other things as well, he brings up the dance a few days ago.

“
Ack
, I’m sorry for making us leave so early,” I say, fumbling for an excuse. “I was just tired and a bit dizzy from all the loud music.”

He doesn’t mention my dancing with Adrian.
“Hey, no worries.
It was getting dry anyway. After a few rounds, you get bored.”

“It’s funny how we didn’t know each other before when we’re in the same school,” Blake says, smiling lightly. “Our school has, like what?
Five hundred students?”
I understand what he’s trying to say. The only answer is that we don’t run in the same social circle. Before, guys like Blake wouldn’t have noticed me if they’d run me over with their silver Porsches.

I ease into the lighter side of things. “You must’ve heard about me, you know, with all the rumours.” I try to smile.

“Yeah, I heard.” His eyes are solemn and he hesitates, gazing at me through those brown eyes. “That you were forced by some guy a few years back?”

I stiffen. I had not expected that. “Where did you hear that?”

“Just some buzz.” Blake shrugs again. “Then Michaels tried to spread some pictures around this school and you got hurt during a fight or something.”

Swallowing, I try to push it away. “It happened a few weeks ago, yeah.”

He nods, propping his hands on his face, studying me. “You’re tough. Stronger than any girl I’ve met before.”

Heat flares in my cheeks. “Trust me; I’m not strong mentally or physically.”

“But you endured, didn’t you?”

I shrug, flipping the page. “I had no other choice.”

Blake reaches for my hand while I’m writing and I pause. “You know, I came into the dance just with you as my substitute date but you’ve left me wanting more.” He looks into my eyes. “There’s a Serenaded concert next Monday, are you coming?”

I blink, uncomfortable. “Blake—I’m…not interested in you that way.”

He leans back, staring at me. “Is it because of Huntington?”

“No,” I say. “It’s because of me; I’m not ready to start something real like a relationship just yet.” And it’s true—I don’t have enough in me to start loving someone.

“Well, pity then.” We both move to get our books from the table as the tardy bell rings. Blake and I walk side-by-side to the library exit, our hands barely grazing.

“Thanks for the math help,” I tell him as we walk through the hall, filled with students swarming out of their classes, shouting and cries in the air.

 
“Anytime,” Blake replies. “Maybe if you tutor me in English Lit, I can help you with math.”

“It’s a package deal.”

As we start towards the dining hall and continue talking, the flow of students is thinning as we turn a sharp corridor.

 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
Then I hear a few whispers, a muffled breathy laugh. I
pause
mid-walk at the door of the janitor’s closet, casting a questioning raised eyebrow to Blake.

 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
“Lovey-dovey couples,” Blake says, shuddering.

 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
“I can’t stand them,” I agree.

While we pass, I see the door suddenly push open. A girl staggers out, her eyes bright and doe-like, trying to comb her fingers through her messy hair. I recognize her to be the same girl from the dance, the one who was Adrian’s date.

With growing dread, I look at her.

 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
“Oh, hi,” she says, surprised when she sees me and Blake staring at her, cupping a hand over her mouth as she giggles. She turns to say to the person behind her, pushing at his chest. “I thought we were going to get caught by Mrs.
Henridge
!”

His familiar green eyes flick over me and I feel unsettled, suddenly embarrassed for some reason. The girl leans up to him, using her fingers to smear away her lipstick on his face.

I step aside, letting them pass as Lauren clings to him like plastic sheeting. Adrian moves past me, and just the slightest, his shirt sleeve brushing against me has me exhale.

The taste of him lingers on me and I close my eyes.

I don’t know why, but I had thought he’d changed his ways. But it’s like they say, a player can never morph into a saint overnight.

“Are you okay?” Blake asks me, a funny look on his face as he looks at me.

I must’ve just been standing there, looking like a fool. Shaking my head, I reach for my backpack and find a note crumpled in the bottom.
Meet me at the beach at six.
Adrian’s blocky writing sends up memories of the ocean, our kiss, our sudden moment. Scoffing at it, I fish it out and toss it into the nearest recycling bin.

“Last night’s homework?”
Blake asks.

“Just some garbage I forgot to throw out earlier.”

And just like that, I’ve buried everything me and Adrian once shared.

***
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

I remember the first time I got my heart broken by some guy I’d harbored a silly crush on for months. It was back in grade seven, when the girls still ignored the guys and the battle of the genders was going strong and raging horribly. Ever since I was a little girl, I’d always craved for romance. The kind that sweeps you off your feet, the dizzying and exhilarating ride that is love. I’d pour over romantic books and swoon over the strong but silent type, the dangerous bad boy, the spirited womanizer, every stereotype out there. I wanted my love to change the bad boy for the better, I wanted to reform the womanizer and make him mine. But sooner or later, reality crashes down on you.

It was at a dance, the type of dance where there were chaperones around and mainstream pop playing in the background, and there was an invisible line drawn between the girls and guys. Girls clustered in groups, talking to each other over some cookies and sneaking sidelong longing looks at various boys on the other side. The guys would try to look cool as they leaned against the wall, checking out any girl in a dress that walked past.

My friend Shannon and I were discussing our plan.
The plan that involved snagging our crushes.
A plan that was soon guaranteed to fail.

“So, you just walk past him and pretend to trip?” I said. “It’s so stupid that it just might work.”

After the guy asked if she was okay, I’d say “Oh, my friend’s just so clumsy” to Jason Fieldings who’s beside him.

So Shannon prepared for her downfall, smoothing out her blue dress and staring hard at her target. She started towards them near the punch table, conversing in loud guffaws, while I was at her heels. Both
of us crossed the invisible line, squaring our shoulders like we were crossing enemy territory.

Then she did it.
Tripped.
Her foot snagged the other and in one graceful motion, Shannon dropped to the floor with a wail of distress and as predicted, the two guys looked over.